Haunted (All Welcome)

[MoonlitKnightt]

The sound of the lobby phone ringing was barely audible above the sexual frenzy taking place not so far away from it. Still, the sound was just loud enough for the Nameless to hear, and it grinned at the obvious meaning; someone else was in the hotel, and was up and about. It looked down at the two humans it had been tormenting thus far, and drifted away to the front desk. Those toys were throughly used up...time to play with someone new.

It looked down at the phone, listening to the ringing another few moments, then picked up the reciever and gingerly set it down. Having made a connection to the room, it passed through the phone line and found itself standing beside Lydia. Nameless ran its eyes over her, taking in every curves, and was pleased at what it saw. Coming up very near to her back, it reached around and uncinched her robe, pulling the belt from around her waist. As it nuzzled cold kisses at her ear, and pressed its stiffness to the swell of her butt, it looped the robe's belt around her neck, tying it off in back with a bow.

It smiled, and spoke to her in its wavering voice. "Shouldn't keep such a fine shape hidden, now should you? Undress, or I'm going to have to do it for you."

 

[la_petit_morte]

"Come on...come on..." Phone cord twirled over her finger as she waited for the front desk to answer, finally someone picked up. "Hello? Hello this is room 218 and my lights went..hello? Is anybody-"

A chill slid across her shoulder and made her back shiver with cold, pressure and pull made the belt on her terry cloth robe fall away. The receiver fell from her hands as icy touches brushed her earlobe. Her heart raced, her breathing went ragged a turn to the side showed no one there but still the belt tied itself around her neck like some sort of kittens bow. Then she felt the press against her, solid and hard like a body, a very definitely male body. The evidence of that maleness impressed to her backside with a chilly firmness.

"What the hell? Who's there?"

A dream? This had to be a dream..or a practical joke by the guys in her class. Sure..they were always joking like that and had managed to get her plans for the week out of her. Sure it had to be... Lydia whirled around to look behind her but there was only open space... That robe was wide open and her very modest t-shirt and boxers showing.

Pupils widened, the fear reaction setting her body to ready for fight or flight. Her stomach quivered nervously as if debating which of the options it liked better and not caring for either. She teetered on her legs for another moment and then bolted for the open door and that lighted hallway.

 

[SuthernCumfort]

Demetri felt satiated as Nameless unloaded inside them. She moaned loudly allowing the female to enjoy the hot load just blown up her ass. Yet, Demetri was not satisfied. Content, yes. But not satisfied. Something in the woman seemed to yearn for the man underneath her.

Demetri searched the womans soul but all she found was a deeply rooted lust for the man now fucking her. What he had, Demetri was not sure of. Nor what he gave the human female could she find. Just the lust and the want.

Capitalizing on this interesting need, she turned her attentions to him.

"You like fucking me dont you? You like being burried inside my tight wet hole humm?" she purred as she rocked forward and back allowing her hips to sway almost against the hardness.

"You should be so lucky im here. Without me this bitch would have died the moment he blew inside her" Demetri said. Her voice now cold and harsh seemed to come from nowhere leaving the helpless Sasha behind.

 

[SuthernCumfort]

Sasha felt ashamed as the namelss beast entered her ass. On several occasions, she and Mark had explored that area and she had enjoyed it. But he had been sensitive to her pain and very loving about it. Now, she was impaled upon the frozen icicle cock in her ass as Mark seemingly pounded her cunt. She could not speak, not even to cry out.

The force holding her seemed to strangle her until she could only whimper. When the two cocks fucked her in unison, Sasha could feel her body repsonding in ways it never had. She soon grew accustomed to the cock in her ass and was riding it with an abandon she had never known before.

The force inside her allowed her to release herself and let her body know pleasure. Inch after inch of cock stuffed into her cheeks and cunt filled Sasha to new depths and soon her own climax was evident.


When the hot sperm flooded her ass, she came. She came with a force set to rock Marks world. Unable to cry out though, she could only contort her face into a series of pleasureable creations. Left empty, when the force pulled out, she along with her own force, turned their attentions on Mark.

Her hips now rocking against his, feeling the pressure of his balls against her as she fucked him in earnst now. She placed her hands on his chest and let the need consume her body.

 

[RockYourWorld]

Mark could tell that Sasha was no longer in control…the voice, the eyes. Someone or something had overtaken her – a turn of events that Mark had not considered or planned for. Shit, how could he? This was all insane! Clearly, the spirit from before had joined in Mark and Sasha’s festivities, which made it hard to try to escape from him. To add to the craziness, the phone was ringing and ringing, so loud and long that maybe even the ghosts could hear it. What the hell else was going to……

Wait, Mark thought, as he slowed his thrusts into Sasha’s body and looked around the room. The phone had stopped ringing! And soon after, the spirit that was fucking Sasha’s ass seemed to whisk away. Was he gone now? It seemed so. Maybe the time had come to make their escape. There was the small matter of the female spirit that now inhabited Sasha’s body. And she was talking to him.

"You like fucking me dont you? You like being burried inside my tight wet hole humm?"

“Of course I do,” Mark responded. “Maybe because you’re in my girlfriend’s body, you freaky ghost! If you would get the hell out of here, she and I could blow this place and all of you spirits can just fuck each other!”

"You should be so lucky im here. Without me this bitch would have died the moment he blew inside her" Demetri said.

“Watch who you’re calling a bitch. If it wasn’t for her, you’d be floating around as mist somewhere in this whacky place.”

Mark figured this was a losing battle, getting into a battle of wills with a ghost. He looked into Sasha’s eyes, looking for just a spark of recognition and seeking to seize the moment when he could scoop her in his arms and run like hell for the door. If the moment was ever there, it evaporated quickly as Mark found himself drawn to those eyes. The eyes had an alluring nature about them, but much in the way that one found himself drawn to look at a car accident. Mark was drawn into the eyes of the spirit and was quickly losing control.

“Who are you?” Mark asked as he knelt between Sasha’s legs, his semi-hard cock still inside of her.

“I am Demetri,” said the spirit through Sasha’s beautiful lips. “Do you not find me enticing?”

Mark didn’t answer, but he could sense his complete and instant loss of control. As he lost control of himself, he lost this chance of escape for both himself and Sasha, but he was powerless for it to be otherwise. As Demetri moved Sasha’s hips towards him, his arousal grew and he began to resume his thrusts into the warm pussy. Was it Sasha’s or now Demetri’s? Mark knew the answer, yet he continued to fuck her.

 

[MoonlitKnightt]

"Come on...come on..." Phone cord twirled over her finger as she waited for the front desk to answer, finally someone picked up. "Hello? Hello this is room 218 and my lights went..hello? Is anybody-"

A chill slid across her shoulder and made her back shiver with cold, pressure and pull made the belt on her terry cloth robe fall away. The receiver fell from her hands as icy touches brushed her earlobe. Her heart raced, her breathing went ragged a turn to the side showed no one there but still the belt tied itself around her neck like some sort of kittens bow. Then she felt the press against her, solid and hard like a body, a very definitely male body. The evidence of that maleness impressed to her backside with a chilly firmness.

"What the hell? Who's there?"

A dream? This had to be a dream..or a practical joke by the guys in her class. Sure..they were always joking like that and had managed to get her plans for the week out of her. Sure it had to be... Lydia whirled around to look behind her but there was only open space... That robe was wide open and her very modest t-shirt and boxers showing.

Pupils widened, the fear reaction setting her body to ready for fight or flight. Her stomach quivered nervously as if debating which of the options it liked better and not caring for either. She teetered on her legs for another moment and then bolted for the open door and that lighted hallway.

The spectre caught up to her out in the upstairs hallway, no far from the very spot it had caught the first young woman. History would repeat itself it seemed as it swept up close to Lydia and held her tight around the waist, turning her to face...well, to face nothingness. But for the nothing she might see, she would certainly feel strong, chilling hands at her body, slowly easing the boxers down over the curves of her hips, exposing her most private of flesh to the openness. It could see obvious fear behind the woman's glasses, and as ever it thrived on that terror. When the shorts had dropped to pool about Lydia's ankles, the Nameless lifted her a foot clear of the floor and kicked them aside. It turned Lydia, still apparently floating in air, to watch as the shorts slid between the railing of this floor to flutter down to that of the lobby. It kept her that way a long moment, exerting its strength for the simple purpose of showing what it was capable of, and set her back on her feet.

The grin could be heard on its voice, as its eyes could be felt upon her figure, though neither could be seen. "This is a much nicer view of you...though we could still improve on it just a little more. I'm sure you know what I mean."

 

[la_petit_morte]

She made it to the hall, and nearly to the landing before a hard force pinned her arms to her sides and held her by her midsection. Lydia struggled against it, her heart pounding, blood rushing through her veins in what the thing must have found to be exquisite terror. She was turned, wide eyes behind those lenses finding nothing to fix on but the fact that she was being held was undeniable. Her logical scientific mind could not fathom what was happening to her and left her in bewildered panic.

Cool touch like a thin directed breeze skimmed her skin as her shorts were pulled down and away. This renewed her struggle fighting to both free herself and keep herself covered. But to no avail, the Nameless was far more powerful than she was and all too soon her flawless skin laid bared before that hungry gaze. Small patch of dark hair trimmed over the top of her mound with lips smooth and bare as the rest of her. Small birthmark shaped like a crescent moon just at the junction of thigh and mons shown against the pale of her skin.

As if unseen hands whisked them away her shorts were swept up and then floated down, past the stairway railing and out of reach of her. That bit of safety gone for good. Now she was half naked, stripped by this invisible force that seemed to delight in every shudder and tremble that ran through her vulnerable body. Legs now pulled up trying to hide her femininity from whatever eyes were watching her.

Soon Lydia felt herself lowering, whatever it was letting her feet touch the floor again but not giving her enough leeway to run, though she did try, half falling in the effort. It wanted...it..it wanted her nude. Completely nude. Fear choked her voice and made it nothing but short squeaks as Lydia shook her head in mute protests. She would not strip for this thing. Hands rushed to cover her small mound and hold her shirt tightly down.

 

[MoonlitKnightt]

As it had before, the spirit allowed an impression of its face to be visible to the woman. A widely grinning, pale blue mask with angular features and empty sockets for eyes looked down at Lydia...looking down, and looking her over in an openly lusting manner. Her neatly trimmed patch of hair was indeed exquisite. Her birthmark as well was arrousing, and it reached out one icicle finger to trace the shape of it tenderly, as a well known and trusted lover might. But the fear in her...oh yes, the fear...that was what truly touched the spirit's lustful core, bringing forth the very best of its very worst.

It watched Lydia's efforts to cover her bared mound, her struggle to keep her shirt properly in place. Fine enough; there were other ways in which to have its fun with her. It reached forward, hands becoming visible as they came, like a disembodied pair of gloves. They grasped her breasts and squeezed, fondling forcefully. The cold of its touch had an evident effect upon her nipples, causing them to stiffen forth in a display of false arrousal in the woman. The face before her smiled, and one empty eye winked at Lydia. This was going to be a truly fun evening indeed.

 

[la_petit_morte]

Eerie blue visage solidified before her, the unearthly look of it only intensifying her fright rather than lessening it. A scream break free of her constricted throat and echoed back to her off the walls. A piercing cry of sheer and unabashed fear. If it was maddening fear this creatures wished to feed on she was giving it a banquet.

Frigid touch roamed over her body as if he had every right, every permission to touch her so intimately. That birth mark shuddering under the press of deathly fingers, gooseflesh rising along her body out of the chill of his touch. Lydia squirmed away as she could from that touch, only to find herself even more in it's icy grip.

Small but firm breasts manhandled..ghosthandled? by the being. Her dark nipples hardening in reaction to the cold, displaying their prominence through the white of her shirt. This was too much for her fragile mind, Lydia babbled softly, weeping and muttering as her head fell back and she shook praying that this was just some sort of dream.

 

[Guest]

OOC: Annabelle, 25.


IC: Annabelle Lee had not been to sleep yet. She sat bolt upright in bed, the candles around her in the room (she hated electric lights for anything but reading) throwing the expression of her torture into deep relief. Named after her aunt, Annabelle was the youngest in a succession of natural mediums. Psychics. She had thought to exercise her skills at this hotel, if it was indeed haunted. She had no idea *how* haunted, and now all the supernatural activity rushed through her mind and body.

She couldn’t shiver, couldn’t react, so great was the influx of this plethora of emotions. Terror, fear, horror… anger, frustration, longing, lust… this last seemed the strongest. The storm of emotions and the depth of them threatened to tear her psyche into pieces, yet she could not—did not want to—sever herself from them.

She sat there in the center of her bed, naked, trembling, sweating, terrified, and more turned on than she had ever been in her life.

 

[MoonlitKnightt]

Much as it was enjoying the terror, the utter anguish, of its current plaything, the Nameless one was jolted at the sudden feeling it was hit with. A connection of sorts, with someone here within the hotel. Someone who understood its kind, who could commune with those who had crossed over into the after life. Someone who also happened to be female.

And ohh, but she was a powerful one. It could tell from the sheer force of this link. No doubt the other spirits about the hotel would feel it just as strongly. Close on the heels of that thought came a second; it should get there first, or risk having to share in the spoils. With a final chilly caress along the contures of the young womans body, and a deep kiss on her lips in which it flicked an inhumanly long tongue into her mouth...into her throat no less...it departed, following the flow of energy to its next new 'friend'.

Passing itself through her door to stand at the foot of Annabelle's bed, it left its face and hands visible to her and leaned over her, a hand on either side. Still nearer, bringing its face within inches of hers, the bedsprings squeaking in protest as the hands pressed down upon it. The Nameless drank in the sight of her openly, hollow eye sockets lingering on the more....tasty... regions of her figure.

It didn't act yet, not directly. But many an image passed through its mind; sexual images...perverse, they might even be called. But it didn't have to act, knowing the empathy within Annabelle that had first alerted it to her pressence.

She would very likely be feeling it, all of it, within her mind, just as she'd soon feel it in her body.

 

[RockYourWorld]

Mark’s senses began to heighten as the air became electric with the spectral occurrences that were taking place all around him. As he tried to figure out a way to deal with Sasha and whoever this Demetri was that had taken over her soul, he could hear the sounds of people or ghosts moving around in various parts of the hotel.

“Yes!” Mark thought to himself. Finally, this is all gathering some attention! As he tried to determine the source of the movement, he saw a curious sight. A woman (she appeared human) was walking naked near the stairway. What appeared to be a bathrobe belt had been tied around her head in a bow. When Mark first saw her, she appeared to be engaged somehow with a spirit. For a quick second, Mark saw that spirit as it moved away from this woman, and darted off quickly to another part of the hotel, a place where Mark had heard other stirring noises.

Despite the fact that Sasha might have still been inhabited by Demetri, Mark held Sasha’s body, partly to protect her, and partly to give himself comfort in all this craziness. He looked over to the woman by the stairway.

“Are you ok?” he asked, seeing if she could hear him, and awaited her response. Meanwhile, in the direction of where the spirit had darted off, Mark saw another woman walking toward the rail. He recognized her. He had seen her on tv, on one of those late night infomercials. Her name was Anna something, and she claimed to be a psychic, asking people to call her 800 number. Anna…Annabelle. That was it. This lady sure had picked the right place!

Annabelle seemed to have company, and Mark was sure it had to be the ghost who had taken Sasha before. With so much going on, Mark had to decide if this was his chance to make his getaway. He wanted to get Sasha out of this place, but now he had to wonder if maybe he was endangering these other two women.

Mark had to make a decision, and fast. It wasn’t something he was good at.

 

[Guest]

She would very likely be feeling it, all of it, within her mind, just as she'd soon feel it in her body.

Annabelle did, indeed experience all that the spirit there with her felt. She squirmed under the influence of the thoughts. She could see in her mind's eye what the presence saw, how it scanned her body. She felt its cold fascination with her, knew its intentions. She broke from her trance, looked straight at the thing, then surveyed it head to toe. She could feel its surprise at the directness of her gaze, but noted also that the lust continued unabated.

Unfolding her legs, she moved slowly toward the door to her room. She didn't bother to cover herself; she knew this spirit would simply eliminate the clothing if she did. Feeling no resistance, she opened the door. Still not being prevented, Annabelle looked out and saw a young woman seemingly out of her mind and naked from the waist down.

The spectre's pride in this woman's condition hit Annabelle hard as its memory of the incident played across her mind. As she stumbled forward, she saw the young man in the lobby clinging to a woman he obviously loved and who was just as obviously possessed. He was conflicted. She could feel that, too. He wanted to run.

Just as certainly, she knew that the spectre was not about to allow them to leave, as long as they fed its lust. She called out to the young man.

"It won't let you," and would have said more, had she not then been grabbed and slammed against the wall, cold hand over her mouth. Startled, she looked wide-eyed at her assailant.

 

[SuthernCumfort]

Sasha lay in the warmth of Mark's arms as he held her close. Her own body used and tired faught sleep as she tried to hold to him.

"Dont" she whispered. She focused her eyes on his and could see the reflections in them. Tears formed and fell from her eyes. What was happening to her? She felt so conflicted. She wanted Mark, needed him. Yet something inside her tried to pull away, as if countering a spell. Sasha felt the rush of air as her body jerked suddenly upward and she fell against the soft plush couch.

Opening her eyes, she said his name. Speaking in uncertain tones. She asked what had happened. She questioned the position they were in, the why and how we got here questions.

She was overcome with need as she saw his eye connect with her own. A realization of recognition fell over him and he pulled her closer to him. A lover's embrace. His body felt warm and familiar as she lay with him. She ran her hands over his body, as if feeling him for the first time. The urgency in their shared kiss was evident.

 

[SuthernCumfort]

Demetri felt the push as she was sent from her humanly body. She floated above watching the lovers. She was enraged as she longed for the comfort of another's touch.

She watched as the body walked towards the lovers. She did not care, for male or female, Demetri longed for a warm body no matter what sex. She approached cautiously for Nameless was more powerful and Demetri was scared of him. His advances on her person were strange and being that they were what they were, she still was not comfortable with him. The young girl with the pretty hair was suddenly tossed, no thrown, against the wall.


Demetri could read the hatred from Nameless as it oozed from him. Holding the pretty redhead against the wall, Demetri stared in fascinated horror as it held the girl against the wall with just one had.

This would be interesting enough.

 

[RockYourWorld]

The focus of the attention was shifting to the upper floor. Sasha was telling him not to look up there, don’t get involved. He didn’t need convincing. Without thinking, he scooped Sasha into his arms and ran toward the front exit. This was his chance, maybe his last chance to rescue her from this place. He stood and in one sweeping move moved toward freedom.

The woman who had come down the stairs still stood near the bottom of the stairway. Her look was vacant, surely not her own, and just as surely possessed or controlled by one of the hotel’s many otherworldly guests. In an instant, she became a tool for these ghosts, a weapon to be used to stop Mark from taking Sasha out of the hotel. Suddenly and very violently, the woman was lifted into the air. To Mark and Sasha’s horror the woman was levitated right in front of their eyes, freezing them in their steps. When they tried to move left, her body body floated that way to stop them. When they went right, she followed them. Seeing that escape was impossible, Mark returned with Sasha to the couch in the middle of the lobby floor.

The last thing Mark wanted was to let Sasha down, but he was afraid he had. They might die here, or be stuck here for an eternity. Either way, it wasn’t going to be pleasant, and it would all be because Mark had failed Sasha.

 

[la_petit_morte]

OOC: So am I reading that wrong or was my character just torn in half? Feel free to PM me.

 

[RockYourWorld]

OOC: I've edited my post. You're alive and well...well, you're alive anyway. We had been left to believe you had left the thread, but obviously I misunderstood. Carry on.

 

[Tarakin]

Forgotten

Annabelle did, indeed experience all that the spirit there with her felt. She squirmed under the influence of the thoughts. She could see in her mind's eye what the presence saw, how it scanned her body. She felt its cold fascination with her, knew its intentions. She broke from her trance, looked straight at the thing, then surveyed it head to toe. She could feel its surprise at the directness of her gaze, but noted also that the lust continued unabated.

Unfolding her legs, she moved slowly toward the door to her room. She didn't bother to cover herself; she knew this spirit would simply eliminate the clothing if she did. Feeling no resistance, she opened the door. Still not being prevented, Annabelle looked out and saw a young woman seemingly out of her mind and naked from the waist down.

The spectre's pride in this woman's condition hit Annabelle hard as its memory of the incident played across her mind. As she stumbled forward, she saw the young man in the lobby clinging to a woman he obviously loved and who was just as obviously possessed. He was conflicted. She could feel that, too. He wanted to run.

Just as certainly, she knew that the spectre was not about to allow them to leave, as long as they fed its lust. She called out to the young man.

"It won't let you," and would have said more, had she not then been grabbed and slammed against the wall, cold hand over her mouth. Startled, she looked wide-eyed at her assailant.

He was only a voice, and a hand, right now. That was all left of him after all these years. But he catched her easily and slammed her against the wall. That got her attention, he was pretty sure. And it send a clear message to nameless, that this mortal was his and his alone.
"Stop it, don't get their attention. There are two of them down there, balancing their powers. If you attract one, the other may kill the girl down there. If you attract both... you see what'll happen to you, and you have no mortal trying to protect you, however feeble", he whispered, just a breeze, a breeze from a cold, cold mountain. He knew he lied, but pretty Annabell did not. Nameless was no longer down there, he was here, somewhere. So what? He, Forgotten, would fight over his new prey, if nameless dared to attack.
"I can help you, medium, but I need something of you. Some pretty juices only mortals can provide. Only female mortals..." With this he slowly uncovered her mouth and trailed down to her chin, her breasts, trailing goosebumps behind him. Just for a second lingering on her nipple, the nipple above her heart, he trailed further down, to her tummy, and further.
"Pretty juices... juices..." barely audible. Juices from a medium! If he still had his mouth, he would have smiled.

 

[Guest]

He was only a voice, and a hand, right now. That was all left of him after all these years. But he catched her easily and slammed her against the wall. That got her attention, he was pretty sure. And it send a clear message to nameless, that this mortal was his and his alone.
"Stop it, don't get their attention. There are two of them down there, balancing their powers. If you attract one, the other may kill the girl down there. If you attract both... you see what'll happen to you, and you have no mortal trying to protect you, however feeble", he whispered, just a breeze, a breeze from a cold, cold mountain. He knew he lied, but pretty Annabell did not. Nameless was no longer down there, he was here, somewhere. So what? He, Forgotten, would fight over his new prey, if nameless dared to attack.
"I can help you, medium, but I need something of you. Some pretty juices only mortals can provide. Only female mortals..." With this he slowly uncovered her mouth and trailed down to her chin, her breasts, trailing goosebumps behind him. Just for a second lingering on her nipple, the nipple above her heart, he trailed further down, to her tummy, and further.
"Pretty juices... juices..." barely audible. Juices from a medium! If he still had his mouth, he would have smiled.

Annabelle was no fool. She could feel the lies, but there was enough truth mixed in that she couldn't discern which words were false and which were true. She did know for certain that at least one spectre still hovered near. She hadn't felt this one coming. It seemed to be... not all there... She could feel its lust, though, as it descended down her body.

She wanted to run. Even with her inherited vision, she could only see a hand. Annabelle started to sidle towards her room. Her family crest lay on the vanity there. It seemed to be protective, and she'd removed it so that she would have every chance of communing with the various spirits inhabiting the hotel. Now, as the cold hand slid to her pussy, there was nothing in the world she wanted more. She hoped fervently that this ... whatever it was ... didn't notice.

That thought--the unknown--it reminded her of something. She asked quietly, "What is your name, spirit?"

 

[midnightguy]

Dave

OOC
Name Dave Riley
Age 36
Hired as new grounds keeper and handy man of the old building by an unknown benefactor.
5'10, 220lbs built like a sherman tank, shaved head, medium complexion, striking blue eyes

IC
I parked my pickup in front of the old building that appeared at one time to have been a grand ole hotel. A unknown employer had hired me to do some small renovations to the place and look after it for the next few months. My truck was loaded with various tools, generator, ladders etc. I had been told that I could stay in the house but decided that the "no tell, motel" would suffice. I got out and walked up to the door ringing the old doorbell and to my surprise I heard a loud chime echo throughout the house/hotel or whatever it was.

 

[Tarakin]

Forgotten

Annabelle was no fool. She could feel the lies, but there was enough truth mixed in that she couldn't discern which words were false and which were true. She did know for certain that at least one spectre still hovered near. She hadn't felt this one coming. It seemed to be... not all there... She could feel its lust, though, as it descended down her body.

She wanted to run. Even with her inherited vision, she could only see a hand. Annabelle started to sidle towards her room. Her family crest lay on the vanity there. It seemed to be protective, and she'd removed it so that she would have every chance of communing with the various spirits inhabiting the hotel. Now, as the cold hand slid to her pussy, there was nothing in the world she wanted more. She hoped fervently that this ... whatever it was ... didn't notice.

That thought--the unknown--it reminded her of something. She asked quietly, "What is your name, spirit?"

She moved, but slowly, fearing his cold hand. Forgotten didn't care at all, he was so near... They entered her room again, the room with the disturbing presence, the room that made him cautious earlier this night. But there was no caution left in him, not beinig so near to his prey, to his target, not after all this years.
She asked quietly, "What is your name, spirit?"
Names are power, he knew, momentarily stopped, and he knew he should be wary. But he was so close... "My name is forgotten" he breathed.
Let her puzzle this out. If he only could remember his true name, he may be free again... or if he got enough juices.
With a final thrust, he enters her sweet, warm pussy. For a moment, she seemed to freeze. Gently, ever so gently, he probed, than removed his finger. There was some few droplets of it he wanted so badly, so few. Ah, those days, where women had flowed over under his gentle caress, when he was mortal, so long ago. Where to use the precious fluids? For a few moments, he couldn't decide. Than he knew, he had to see her, not just her warm blood, her pumping heart, but her flesh also, her nudeness. He rubbed the droplets where his left eye should have been. A stinging burn, but a welcomed one...
Visibility! He could see again! He knew his eye was visible again, too, but he could see now! Where was his nude, his prey, his maiden?
Then he knew he had made too much mistakes, had been carried away by his joy. She was there no longer, she had fled to the vanity. There was something there, looking like some family crest... And it had a very disturbing aura on it. No that he could see it, he knew the presence he sensed early on was coming from that crest. This was something very old, centuries ago, in old europe...
Oh, no! Not after so many years! Not after being so close to visibility, to mortality!

 

[Guest]

"Forgotten". That was what the spirit said. Its name was Forgotten. Or was it forgotten? She gasped as the cold finger pushed into her, and then she fled to the vanity where the precious thing lay. As she reached for the amulet, she saw movement in the mirror.

The hand... it raised itself and seemed to rub something... and then there was an eye; the eye of one forgotten. She felt the pain, and the joy, and she froze.

Now she wasn't certain she needed protection, and she hesitated, watching as the hand and eye floated closer. Her own hand did grasp the chain and gather the amulet, but she did not slip it over her head yet. She watched this faded spectre, ready to bolt and don the family crest she knew would protect her.

"What do you want?" Her words were barely audible, and she grasped the necklace tightly.

 

[Tarakin]

Forgotten

She ran to that amulet with the crest. All was lost, he despaired. But then... she hesitated. Why? Why? She teased me! My eye wandered. From her amulet, now near her beautiful breasts, to her sweet pussy, my goal, and back again. I closed my eye in pain - and opened it again abruptly, for I saw but her blood and heart and crest again. She's so beautiful in my mortal eye, and so far away with this cursed amulet. Stop teasing me! he wanted to cry out. Do make an end!
But instead he whispered, barely audible and cold like an glacier: "Rub your pussy, will you?"

 

[Guest]

The frustration of the spirit washed over Annabelle. She wasn't trying to... tease? It--he--thought she was teasing? Her eyes widened at the request he made, and she kept hold of the crest and moved cautiously to the bed. He (yes, the feelings flooding her were definitely male, she decided) followed her. That is to say, the eye that watched her every move and the hand that twitched to touch followed her.

Sitting cross-legged, her red hair flowing over her shoulders and curling just above her nipples, she placed the amulet on the bed between her legs. The eye flinched. She picked the necklace up, and saw the fear in the eye.

Hmmm... this spirit seemed to be afraid of her family crest. Making certain that it was never out of contact with her, she placed the heirloom behind her. "I know you want my juices, spirit, but what is your goal?"